Where in the World
by Lennox13
Summary: Robin is confused: Why is he being treated like a criminal? Why does everyone hate him? What the holy heck is going on? Seeking answers, beyond curses and threats, he ends up in Keystone, where a certain group of criminals and certain group of heroes have an oddly amicable relationship. Maybe they can help him figure out where everything had gone so horribly wrong?


Fear coursed through his veins as Dick streaked down a dimly lit road out of Gotham. With no helmet and no gear other than the impractical tuxedo, he was currently dressed in, the wind sliced through his outfit and cut him to the bone. But he hardly noticed the physical cold because everything inside of him was already ice.

Blood kept dripping onto his eyes from a shallow cut on his forehead but his hands were locked on the handlebars of the stolen bike and he merely squinted in response, the world around him alight with a rosy hazy. Dick had absolutely no idea what was going on, other than the fact that for some reason, overnight, he'd turned into public enemy number one.

So far, the police had tried to arrest him, shoot him and trap him, and although that had confused the heck out of him, he'd easily outmanoeuvred them – he was trained by Batman after all. And that was fine. Dick initially thought it some weird test, to be honest.

But when Batman had tried to capture him, he got the feeling that all was not well in Gotham. The absolute burning hate he'd seen in his foster father's eyes had made his heart skip a beat. The searing pain still sitting somewhere between his heart and his head, pounding along with the blood pumping in his ears, was a stark reminder of just how much it had hurt. He'd given Batman the slip, only after using every trick in the book.

After two hours of running, several bruises and the cut on his forehead later, he'd managed to shake the Dark Knight and had headed towards the Cave to recuperate. And ask Alfred what the fudge was going on.

To his surprise and horror, his access code didn't work, and neither did his retina or fingerprint scan. So he'd snuck in from above, through his own window, only to find his room a blank slate, a miscellaneous guest bedroom. Stuck in the silly suit with nothing to change into, he'd gone downstairs only to be faced with Alfred and half a dozen batarangs. Scared silly, he ran, stealing a bike and carefully deactivating all of the tracking devices. It was now literally the only thing he had, along with the satellite phone he'd used quickly before discarding it in a Gotham side-street.

He'd called all of the numbers he'd known and was met with varying degrees of confusion and hostility. His doctor had been confused, the headmaster perplexed and Alfred delivered a few dry threats when he asked what on earth was happening. The number for Mount Justice didn't even exist and Barbara's tirade of insults and curse words had hurt the most, as well as the threat to disembowel him on sight, regardless of Batman's no-killing code. The rest of the numbers that he had religiously memorised slipped out of his head. Or maybe it was because his fingers were shaking too much to dial the correct numbers.

Was he trapped in some kind of simulation? Like Failsafe? A parallel universe? Was this some sick test? He wanted to cry; not in fear but with a feeling of utter frustration. He didn't though – he could already barely see. His only hope was to get as far away from Gotham as possible, get to some kind of safe place and figure out what was wrong with this world.

Dick didn't have much of a plan yet but was heading towards the nearest city with an airport. Although tricky, he was sure he could sneak into an aeroplane. He was still quite slight, having only just turned thirteen, so maybe he could hide in the baggage area? Or sneak in, pretending to be someone's kid? Whatever it takes. As long as the plane took him as far away from Gotham as possible.

After selling his ridiculously impractical outfit, he'd gotten some casual clothes and a paper, before heading towards the domestic terminal. International was definitely a bit more complicated, and without any gear, he wasn't going to try. Dick had yet been able to steal a phone or something, so contented himself with reading the paper and observing his surroundings.

Everything seemed normal at first glance. Bruce was still a billionaire bachelor featuring in both the financial and tech news. It seemed that Clark was still a journalist and Superman still existed, saving people from burning buildings on a daily basis. So far, the world was very similar to his own. All was normal, except he could find no mention of a Robin alongside news of Batman, or a Richard Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne. I

t was seven hours later, at about two in the afternoon, when he saw his chance. A flustered looking couple with five highly energetic children were approaching one of the domestic terminals. With his hastily lightened hair and dark glasses, he quickly slipped amongst them, dancing, ducking and dodging through security with a charming smile and an 'I'm supposed to be here'-attitude. The attendant wasn't particularly attentive or interested and just wanted the three screaming toddlers from Dick's new family to get out of the way.

It was only that they were safely in the air, that Dick finally allowed himself to breathe. And sleep. Although the plane ride wasn't particularly long, it would give him a decent amount of rest and he wasn't sure when that was going to happen again.

It was only when the plan struck tarmac that he woke, startled awake by the not-so-gentle landing. Ignoring the dried tear-streaks that he could feel pulling taught on his cheeks, he quickly gathered his measly belongings as well as the free peanuts that were left in cup holders around him.

"Sorry about the bumpy landing, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Keystone City. Thank you for travelling by Intercity Air. I wish you an enjoyable rest of your day."

Relief started creeping upon him when he heard where they had landed. He hadn't realised their destination before, but finally, it seemed something was going his way. Because even if he was some kind of criminal in this bizarre, warped version of reality, the one thing he could count on was a happy speedster to hear him out.

* * *

Hello! I have no idea where this is heading exactly, but ah, the fic is young. Ideas and suggestions are appreciated and most welcome - I promise to give credit where it is due.

Please review if you would like to come along on this exploratory journey to see where this fic might lead. Thanks for reading!


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